


you ( my home )

by orsaverba



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:49:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27721691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orsaverba/pseuds/orsaverba
Summary: Sometimes, their fights end like this.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 8
Kudos: 60





	you ( my home )

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](https://orsa-verba.tumblr.com) prompt for **Anonymous**

**_you will always be my home._ **

* * *

Sometimes, their fights end like this.

No resolution or apologies, just Dick hovered at the Batman’s bedside while Alfred peels the suit back to reveal the man underneath. There was something worth being angry about, before this. There always is.

Dick won’t lie and pretend that he doesn’t _remember_ why he was angry-- It just seems so unimportant, at the moment. 

You’d think, after nearly two decades at Bruce’s side, he’d be used to this.

Bruce, on the operating table, bloody and broken. Him, aching, standing, taking measure of the damage with detached efficiency. 

Dick doesn’t think he’ll _ever_ be used to it.

After it’s all said and done- the surgical tools washed, gloves and gauze in the trash, IV hooked into Bruce’s veins -Dick just. Sits. The same vigil he always keeps when it gets this bad. The family knows they’ll find him there, they stop by in pairs and threes to check on their mentor, on _him_. 

Jason squeezes his shoulder on his way out. They’ll pretend he wasn’t there, even if everyone knows he was.

Hours later, Bruce wakes with hazy slowness. His fingers flex, squeeze down around the hands wrapped tightly around his own. Even half-dead, his grip is firm and sure.

With painstaking slowness, his eyes come open and his head tilts.

“You’re home,” he breathes-- almost _wonderingly_. Just like he does every time. As if Dick may not have come back this time.

As if he won’t come home _every_ time.

And sometimes, especially times like now, Dick wants to say; _of course I am_ , and _I never really left_ , and _Bruce, you’re my home_. 

He leans forward instead and ghosts a kiss against his mentor’s lips, says;

“I’m home, B.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always loved and kudos mean the world <3
> 
> Come find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/orsaverba) or [Tumblr](https://orsa-verba.tumblr.com) if you'd like to chat.


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